Against the Edo-born “I” seen in the previous article, the students of Matsuyama answer back in speech marked by its own distinctive endings. This article reads, directly from the text, the specific ways speech goes astray between them in the classroom.
“Would you go a bit more zura-zura, mos”
On his second day at the post, during a math class, one student makes this request:
It’s too fast, I can’t follow, kere. Could you go a bit more zura-zura, oh, please, mos. (working translation)
Kere is a conjunctive particle marking cause (equivalent to Tokyo speech’s kara, “because”); mos is a sentence-final address particle. “I” assesses the remark this way:
“Go a bit more zura-zura, oh please, mos” is a lukewarm sort of phrase. (working translation)
The word “lukewarm” is what’s interesting here. A perfectly ordinary request to slow down sounds, to “I,” drawn-out and toothless. This isn’t so much a difference of vocabulary or grammar as a discomfort with rhythm itself.
The tempura incident — “zona-moshi” repeated
Probably the most famous scene of linguistic collision is the so-called “tempura incident.” “I” eats four servings of tempura at a soba shop, and a student writes it on the blackboard to mock him.
“Professor Tempura” is written there. Everyone burst out laughing at the sight of my face. I thought it was idiotic, so I asked if there’s something funny about eating tempura. A student answered, but four servings is too many, zona, moshi. (working translation)
Zona, moshi is the classic sentence-ending of Iyo speech. The students keep using it as a tool for teasing. The blackboard prank continues into the next class as well:
“One Order of Tempura, Four Servings. NB: Do Not Laugh.” is written on the board. (working translation)
“I” spits out at this persistence:
These country boys just don’t get the joke, so they’ll push it as far as it’ll go. (working translation)
The grasshopper incident — “nanoshi” and “rice-with-greens”
Another famous scene is the “locust” incident in the dormitory. A student has slipped a grasshopper into “I“‘s bedding, prompting this exchange:
“‘Locust,’ this is? You’ve got a big body and don’t even know a grasshopper?” I said, and a round-faced kid on the far left cheekily talked back, “That’s an inago [locust], zona, moshi.” “Berabo-me, inago and batta are the same thing. And what’s this ‘nanoshi’ business anyway when you’re talking to a teacher? Rice-with-greens is nothing to eat except with dengaku,” I shot back, twisting the words, and he came right back with “nanoshi and rice-with-greens are different, zona, moshi.” (working translation)
“I” is pretending, deliberately, to mishear the Iyo particle nanoshi as nameshi (rice cooked with greens), and turns it into a pun as a comeback. The student instantly corrects him: “nanoshi and rice-with-greens are different.” This exchange is more than mere name-calling — it’s wordplay exploiting a chance similarity of sound, and it shows off the novel’s sharp ear for language.
The landlady’s speech
The dialect friction isn’t limited to exchanges with students. The elderly landlady at “I“‘s lodgings speaks in “zona-moshi” from start to finish as well.
Why didn’t you bring your wife along with you, zona-moshi, she asks. (working translation)
“I” himself, half in jest, sometimes tries mimicking the local dialect.
So even at twenty-four I ought to take a wife, kere — would you find me one? I asked, imitating the country speech, and the old woman took it seriously and asked, is that really true, na-moshi? (working translation)
There’s a small failure recorded here too: his dialect impression doesn’t quite land, and the old woman takes it at face value.
Worth checking as you read
First, this novel’s Iyo dialect is likely, to some degree, exaggerated and simplified from the actual Matsuyama dialect. Sōseki himself, having taught at Matsuyama Middle School (today’s Matsuyama Higashi High School), knew the local speech firsthand, but he foregrounds “zona-moshi” repeatedly as a representative feature, prioritizing the novel’s comic effect. This feature does not verify the linguistic accuracy of the Iyo dialect itself — it focuses strictly on how it functions within the novel.
Second, every exchange about dialect is narrated from “I“‘s point of view. How the students actually perceived Tokyo speech cannot be determined directly from this first-person novel.
Summary
| Point | Content |
|---|---|
| “Go a bit more zura-zura, mos” | A simple request is assessed as “lukewarm” because of its rhythm |
| The tempura incident | Teasing with “zona, moshi” recurs via a blackboard prank |
| Nanoshi / rice-with-greens | Wordplay exchanged over a chance similarity of sound |
| The landlady | “I“‘s dialect impression falls flat and gets taken literally |
In short — the classroom and lodgings of Botchan show Tokyo speech and Matsuyama speech talking past each other on every level — vocabulary, grammar, rhythm, sound — and that mismatch itself is the source of the novel’s comedy.